


Fear and Ferris Wheels

by duckcrab



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-11
Updated: 2010-08-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:19:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckcrab/pseuds/duckcrab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: Fear and Ferris Wheels<br/>Fandom: Inception<br/>Summary: Oh, he distracts her alright.<br/>Pairing: Ariadne/Arthur<br/>Rating: R edging in on NC-17<br/>Notes: <img/> <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/inception_kink/4946.html?thread=5969490#t5969490">prompt</a>:  ferris wheel. SEXY TIMES~ she's afraid, and he distracts her.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear and Ferris Wheels

 

"What's he saying?"

"I can't hear it all...but from what I can gather, we're stuck," Arthur says, looking down (and down and down and so far down) over the side of the seat as he munches on his hot, buttered popcorn.

"Oh God," she folds in half, pressing her face against her legs.

"Hey," he sets aside the salty treat and rests a hand on her back. "What's the matter?"

"We're stuck," she says. "And we're very high up. And..." she hates to admit it, but, "I'm scared."

He snorts out a laugh and she punches his knee.

"I'm sorry," he says, still laughing. "But you told me what you did during the Fischer job. Ariadne, you jumped off of a high-rise. I think you can handle a ferris wheel."

"I thought I could. I tried. And besides, those are two totally different things," she argues, the sound of her voice muffled by the fabric of her skirt. "That was a dream. This-this is real."

"Sit up," he says.

"No."

"Come on," he says, lifting her up by her shoulders.

"No! Arthur!" her eyes are shut so tight that her face crinkles. "I hate you so much right now. I hate you. I hate you. I-" she can feel his fingers push between her thighs, and she instinctively parts them.

He still has one arm wrapped around her shoulders, and from down below it looks like nothing more than a man with his hand on the knee of his female companion.

"Arthur," she whispers, fingers gripping his forearm.

"Hush," he says. "Pull your skirt down a little. Cover up my hand. Wouldn't want anyone to know what we're up to up here, would we?" He brushes the tip of his nose against her cheek, and he places a sweet peck on the tight muscle of her jaw.

Her fingers linger on his arm while she contemplates giving him a good wallop upside his perfectly coifed head.

Oh, hell. That can wait for later. She releases his arm and pulls the hem of her skirt down like he asked. She leans back against his other arm, letting her knees drift away from each other just a little bit more. 

He looks past her, pointing at something invisible as his fingers slide under her panties.

"Look over there," he says, kissing her temple. "Pretend you see something. Smile."

He's keeping up the charade for anyone who might be able to see the two of them. Considering that they happen to be stuck at the very top of the ride the chances of someone seeing them is next to impossible without superhuman vision, but still he keeps it up.

She can only look at him.

"Arthur..."

"It's alright," he says, his mouth covering hers just as he slides a single digit into her. He swallows her moan, but can't help the one that bubbles up from his own throat. He pulls away too soon, and she whines until she feels his breath on her neck. He sucks a bruise just under the strap of her bra while his fingers continue to jerk and curl and cause a general ruckus inside of her.

"Fuck, Arthur," she says.

"No," he says, raising his head and laughing. "We'll do that later."

"Still...still hate you," she says, her hand moving across his lap to find him straining against the smart khakis he had pulled on that morning.

He makes a sound, and presses his thumb against her clit, flicking it over and over and over until her hand falls away.

Her climax is perfectly timed. The ferris wheel starts up again, making the whole thing shake with the sudden, grinding motion, and her cries of completion are drowned out by the cheers for whoever got the thing moving again.

Arthur removes his hand from between her legs, rights her skirt, and catches her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He kisses her deep, tongue moving against hers like a snake, teeth nipping the inside of her lip.

"Get a room!" yells someone in the crowd. Ariadne extends her middle finger to the heckler.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" asks Arthur, those damned fingers digging back into his popcorn like nothing happened.

When he catches her looking, he smirks and offers her some.   



End file.
